


The Birth of Damien Lavey

by zevra1elf



Series: R.I.P.D Verse [1]
Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel), Monster Prom - Fandom
Genre: Blood, M/M, Mentions of Child Sacrifice, Mostly Fluff, Rituals, brief angst, not mpreg, unconventional birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23854186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zevra1elf/pseuds/zevra1elf
Summary: The story of how Damien Lavey, prince of the Eighth circle of Hell, came to be.
Relationships: Lucien LaVey/Stan LaVey
Series: R.I.P.D Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723225
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	The Birth of Damien Lavey

**Author's Note:**

> So this might be the start of a series I write here if I feel up to it. This was written in the dead of night cause I couldn't sleep in one go cause I couldn't get it out of my head but fuck it I'm posting it here anyway! Enjoy reading.

There are many planes of existence that exist and intermingle in the universe but let's be real only four matter. You've got 'the realm of the living', which covers every planet with life on it and every alternate version of it. 'Earth' is a big name to those in the know but not because of any grand achievements or the diversity of life. No, it's because of just how quickly and how many humans die every day. Even before they started breeding like rabbits the rate at which they died was enough to shift the balance of realms as the souls of this new race flooded through. Since power in the planes was really just a numbers game everyone was obviously suddenly very eager to keep that world spinning. 

The Infernal Realm, more commonly known as 'Hell' was one such power. Demons and monsters whose power fed on souls and delighted in punishing the wicked souls that slipped through swelled in numbers as more became corrupted. Hell is what you make it after all but surprisingly most humans had a common view of what Hell was supposed to be. That wasn't entirely the case, however, and as the influx of souls began to shift the very foundations of the Infernal Realm it eventually got split into different circles. Now Wars waged frequently over who got to rule what circle but the demons loved it. Chaos, fighting, fire, and brimstone, it was what they were after all.

The Realm of Light was a different story. Once this place had been one complete Realm of harmony...then humans found religion. Unlike their ideas of eternal damnation, paradise and the gods that ruled over them varied drastically from place to place, as was the terms to get into that 'heaven'. The Realm of Light' became divided and the powerful entities who once ruled in peace now snickered over who was really the best God and responsible for the creation of Earth. They allowed the worship of humanity to get to their heads and now most outside couldn't stand them. 

The final plane worth mentioning was Limbo. The crossroads, where all planes met and diverged, going one way or the other. The beings here once had the relatively easy job of guiding souls and travelers to where they were supposed to go. It had been a peaceful, serene little plane where not much happened. With the birth of humans and the chaos born in their wake, the Guides of Limbo became much, much busier. Even they couldn't avoid being untouched by the sheer will of humanity forever, finding themselves transformed into what are now commonly known as Reapers. Every time there was a problem with humanity it was them who ended up having to clean up the mess. 

Just a few centuries back they had to solve a problem between one of the heavens and Inferno. The soul they had brought wasn't good enough to enter their religion's heaven but at the same time not bad enough for Hell. Soon after more and more such souls became stuck in Limbo, rejected by both sides with nowhere to turn. It got so bad that the Reapers eventually had to create a solution for the problem; The Reincarnation Integration Program Department or 'R.I.P.D' for short. At first, all they did was recycle the human souls back to Earth in a 'better luck next time' fashion. Some got the idea to start putting them in animal bodies, particularly dogs and cats though some souls bordering on Hell got turned into insects for shits and giggles. 

Humanity wasn't content to cause problems with their own species though. Soon the less common creatures, like Dragons, Vampires, and Gorgons, began to come under siege by humanity. They fled in droves as the humans threatened to drive them to extinction and since they didn't multiply like, well, humans it caused a new problem. It was then the R.I.P.D decided to find a way to curb the population of humanity while bringing back the monsters they once threatened to destroy. Though the selection process for it was albeit more thorough; souls over a certain age had to hit a moral sweet spot to qualify, while children's souls had a 'three strikes' rule before they applied unless extreme circumstances were present. 

The small, fragile soul sitting on the scale of the Reaper 'Nare Ator' was one such case. Most of the time case files were these long things that used to be the size of dictionaries until blessed computers were created but this soul was so new its' case fit on a single page of an email. The faceless grey entity squinted at the screen, tapping his fingers against his desk before letting out a groan of disbelief. "Sacrificed by a Witch Doctor shortly after being born? What the actual fuck!" He growls out, looking at the name of the perpetrator before picking up his phone, clicking a button to reach his friend in another department. 

"Sarah. Fuck you're not going to believe this, I've got a baby sacrificed before it was even named on my desk." He spins in his chair while his friend gasps into his ear before going on an angry tangent. "I know right?! What kind of sick freak willingly sacrifices their kid?! What kind of fucker goes through with it?!" He turns to his computer, scrolling to the biography page for this soul. "Names? ….Oh you know I'm forwarding this to you. I want these guys to have a special place in Hell waiting for them when they die."

Sarah says something in response which Nare laughs at. "That's why I love you, Sarah. Make sure to tell me who gets this case, I want to see them burn." He hangs up, sighing as his phone clicks back into position before his empty gaze falls on the fragile orb before him. "What am I going to do with you?" He mumbles, leaning on his desk and gently petting the soul with his index finger. "I can't send you back there to get fucked over again." He chuckles as the soul lights up in response, a brilliant red that reminds him of fire. Now usually a soul would already be taking shape into something but this soul was so new, so young it hardly registered its own existence. Yet the will to live was there, so warm it was nearly hot to the touch.

"Hot…" He trails off for a moment before his head jolts up from where it laid on his desk, a lightbulb flickering on in his mind. His hands fly to his computer, opening programs with lightning speed as he scrambles to find the profile he was looking for. "Please still be available, please still be available," he mumbles, knowing very few monsters had the means to care for such a delicate soul. It needed love, undivided attention or it would twist and misshapen or simply wither away after reincarnation. It needed a powerful soul or two to ground it, give it shape, and allow it to grow strong where its previous parents had all but tossed it in the garbage. 

The screen loads to show a pair of hopeful parents, the first of their kind. Demons whose love was so powerful they conquered the Eighth Circle and reformed it to the best place in Hell to live and they were looking to adopt. When they first applied though they made it clear they wanted a baby, not a child. They wanted the experience of raising a little hellion start to finish, though the request was near impossible to fill. This soul though...it was strong enough to survive Hell, new enough to change into whatever species it wanted, unaffected by the beliefs of its parent's culture. It would be perfect as long as the LaVey's were still looking. 

"YES!" Nare shouts when he spots the green mark which meant they were still available, grabbing his phone and quickly dialing the given number. "You are going to have the best life little guy." He coos, phone to his ear while he carefully places the soul into a padded container to avoid contamination. The line picks up, distant arguing being heard in the background.

"This is Marcus, Secretary to the Glorious Kings of the Eighth Circle of Hell, what the fuck do you want?" The voice of a beyond uninterested man rings in his ear and Nare clears his throat. 

"My name is Nare Ator, I'm a Reaper from the R.I.P.D," he says, printing out the file for the LaVey's from his computer, the Secretary pausing his disinterested tapping as the Reaper says this.

"...Please hold." There is a click followed by the melodies of tortured souls screaming in his ear, Nare putting the phone on speaker mode so his hands can be free to eagerly prepare all the necessary paperwork. Usually, he wasn't very hands-on with cases that were handed over his way but this one was going to be special. He could feel it in his non-existent bones.

\----

Stan and Lucien Lavey had been looking for a way to have a baby since, well, since they had gotten married five years ago. There was something about the prospect of raising a new life that brought tears to Lucien’s eyes when he thought about it but there was a small problem. Well, other than they both had dicks and none of the necessary equipment, of course. They were demons who lived in the Eighth Circle of Hell, the one closest to Hell’s core where life didn’t come easy. Sure they could adopt a kid but they wanted the child to be theirs’, blood and all. At first, they tried the usual unholy rituals but the chaotic energy of their circle made everything a bit, ah, unstable. The first failed attempt was...well, it hurt. 

So they went to the R.I.P.D for help and found it wasn’t going to be much easier going that route either. Not impossible but still not an immediate answer. For a child to come out ‘born of their blood’ it would have to be one that was abandoned before birth. That meant a child that the parents were going to have but had no intention of keeping alive. A child that had on the love of any kind attached to it whatsoever and had died before they had any earthly attachments. Despite the depravities, humanity had proven they could reach that was thankfully rare. Well, thankfully in terms of hope for the living, not so much for the Lavey’s.

The royal couple did hope, though. There was a nursery connected right next to their room eager to be filled, already equipped with everything that would both definitely and theoretically be needed. They had picked out a pediatrician, a school, everything. They just needed a baby. Till then there were other things that took their minds off of their empty home. The Aquino’s wanted another shot at taking the throne and currently, they were arguing over plans to do just that. Even though they had come here to discuss plans for the new ‘culture center’ that the Lavey’s wanted to implement, which would have a fighting arena at its center. Ah, blood, guts, and violence. Who wouldn’t want to take their little one to see that?

“For fuck’s sake Martin, it hasn’t been a month since your last coup failed! Can we stay on topic for ten minutes?!” Stan growled out, rubbing his head as the orcish demon slammed his hands flat on the table, nostrils flaring.

“It would have already been done if the Aquino’s were on the throne! You guys are just too much of a pussy to get the job done quickly!”

“Oh excuse me, which one of us conquered this Circle of Hell with the sheer power of Love which all of you fuckers denied until we made it a thing?! You wouldn’t have even HAD a wedding if we didn’t do it first!” Stan roared out, his voice echoing through the chamber despite his lack of a mouth. At the creaking of the giant metal door a knife was thrown, Marcus yelping as it dug into his shoulder.

“What?!” Lucien growled out, ready to throw another knife in case the reason for this interruption was a most likely stupid one. They were just getting somewhere with the topic actually falling to building the culture center for crying out loud! “R-R.I.P.D on the line for you, Your Highness.” Suddenly the volatile energy that had filled the air before fizzled out, even Martin stopping his tangent mid-sentence and staring at the imp of a secretary. 

“We’ll talk about this later.” His voice is gruff but Martin’s gaze is hopeful towards the would-be parents, Lucien having the patience to wait till their rival left before he runs over his secretary to grab the phone, Stan beside him not a moment later. “Yes!” They both blurted out once the line was off hold, Stan clearing his throat as he composes himself, putting the call on speaker as he kicks the imp out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“This is Stan LaVey, First King of the Eighth Circle of Hell. My husband Lucien Lavey, Second King of the Eighth Circle of Hell, is also present.” It was a chore but these calls were often recorded for case purposes so formalities were a necessary evil.

“Thank you for taking my call so quickly.” The Reaper on the other end of the line spoke, the clicking of computer keys filling the background as both would-be parents eagerly held onto his every word. “I would have called back but this, as you might have guessed, is a time-sensitive manner. My name is Nare Ator and I was calling to ask if you and your husband were still looking for a child?” 

Stan can’t hold back his hopeful gasp, covering his mouth with one hand as Lucien takes the phone. “Yes. I, ah, understand our paperwork might be a little old,” Nare’s laugh fills the other end of the line, the sound of a chair rolling back coming through the phone.

“You updated it last week. If all applicants were as thorough as you two my job would be much easier.” Nare begins, Stan biting his lip as they wait for him to go on. “I have a soul here that I know would be perfect for your home. Spunky little thing...and it meets the requirements of your request.” If Lucien’s eyes widened any further they would fill up his entire forehead, his heart hammering against his chest. “How soon can you get here?”

“I’ll get the bag!” Lucien shouts as he runs out of the room, smashing the imp secretary with the metal door as he rushes through to get the emergency bag. The R.I.P.D had made it clear that when the soul formed it would need clothes, food, all the necessary things a baby would need upon being born in the human world. They had a bag ready just in case this call ever came and the only thing they hadn’t planned for was being on the other side of the castle when the call came through.

“Give us ten minutes and we’ll be in Limbo. Mister Nare Ator, right?” Lucien steps over the twitching corpse of his secretary to get to the demon’s desk, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper to write down the information he was about to get.

“Correct. Room 366, third floor, fourth door on your right. It’s the one to the left of the water cooler, can’t miss it. Tell the front desk you’re arriving for final evaluations.” Final Evaluations. Of course in such a delicate situation the Reapers had to make sure that the parents had everything necessary to raise a baby so delicate but they were prepared for this. They were beyond prepared for this. 

“Of course. My apologies in advance should Stan break your door.” He hangs up the phone, taking a deep breath as he composes himself, the red-skinned demon shaking where he stood. This was it. They were finally going to get the baby they had wanted for so long. Just one last loop to jump through and they were all clear. He stands up straight, walking briskly through the halls to the teleportation pad where they could quickly get to Limbo from Hell. It had been a pain in the ass to get the thing installed but damn if it wasn’t paying off now. 

He’s waiting in the center of the Pentagram as Lucien bursts through the door, out of his armor and in more casual attire now, the violet demon swinging the baby bag over his shoulder. “Sorry! Sorry, I should have been waiting here for you here, fuck, why didn’t I,” he’s already a mess. There’s a scrap of metal dangling from his horn from where he ripped his helmet off in haste, his shoes don’t match and the to be father is struggling to clasp his cloak to his right shoulder.

Stan chuckles softly as he walks over, gently shushing him with a hand to his cheek, eyes scrunched up in a smile. “Deep breathes love. Calm down.” He hums out, clasping the green cloak to place, stepping closer to the taller demon and placing his head on Lucien’s broad chest, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I know you’re excited. So am I...but you can’t cry yet.”

“I’M NOT CRYING DAMNIT, YOU ARE!” The warrior blurts out but there are already happy tears spilling from his eyes which he vigorously wipes away as the warlock steps back from him. “Ok...I’m ok...just….” The brute steps away from his king, walking to the wall and punching straight through the brick, rock crumbling to dust before he joins his lover on the teleporter. “Ok. I’m ready.” 

Lucien chuckles as he presses the button to start the teleporter, a human screaming above them as they are bled for the ritual. “Fuck I’m not ready,” Stan mumbles under his breath, clenching the strap of the duffle bag while shaking his head, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want to mess this up, not now when they were so close to making their dream a reality.

“We are ready Stan.” Lucien muses, taking his husband’s hand and squeezing it gently, even though he feels just as nervous as his king. “Just...breathe.” The warlock says helpfully, reaching up to remove the metal scrap dangling from Stan’s horn, tossing it away as they teleport out of their castle in Hell to another type of ‘hell’ entirely. Honestly, if he were to be punished for all of eternity it would probably look something like this business building.

There are monsters of all kinds in the reception area, all eager to adopt young souls who needed new homes that wouldn’t screw them over as their human ones had. It was something the R.I.P.D prided themselves in; not just anyone could adopt a child human to be reincarnated. There were house checks, background checks, and then, of course, the child needed to feel safe and connected to their new parents as well. Some were already transformed into monsters, others would shift to fit the adopted family but they wouldn’t be blood. No, that required a fresh soul, one who died very young, one who had no connections before or after birth. It was an unsettling thought, considering it meant that the parents had no intention of letting the child live, but neither Lavey wanted to think about it too much.

They went to the line marked ‘open cases’, walking up to a receptionist with their IDs. Security was tightest at this branch of the department to prevent desperate monsters from stealing away an innocent soul but at least they had the system streamlines. “The Lavey’s,” the tentacle being hummed out as she handed them back their ID cards, “Mr. Ator is expecting you. Proceed.” The door next to the desk dings, a green light shining above it as Stan pushes past. “NO RUNNING!” The receptionist shouts out after the blue demon, Lucien apologizing as he goes after his husband.

The larger ruler is bouncing on his feet as the elevator slowly crawls upwards, bursting through as soon as the sliding doors open. “Do you know where you’re going?” Lucien shouts to Stan, who is running in the opposite direction of the Reaper’s office. The blue demon cursing and following after his husband who slows down, stopping in front of a door with the name ‘Nare Ator’ painted on in black. “Deep breathes love. We’ve got this.” He whispers, kissing his husband gently before opening the door, the faceless Reaper sitting patiently with two stacks of papers on his desk and an important-looking box on the corner of his desk.

“Your Highnesses. Thank you for coming so quickly, please, sit.” The Reaper motions to the cushioned chairs in front of his desk, both would-be parents sitting down quickly before Stan begins to dig through the duffle bag. “Now, before we finish things I will need,” an album is placed on the desk before he can finish, Stan smiling nervously.

“Pictures of the nursery and living areas.” The warrior states, the royals having prepared for this moment ages ago. “The entire floor is baby-proofed, fireproofed, idiot proofed. We don’t even have any weapons up there.” Which was saying something in Hell. The Reaper is flipping through the pages to gaze down carefully at the photos, his featureless face revealing nothing about what he feels gazing at the images. The silence is a worse torment than any man can imagine, the Reaper closing the book and sliding it away before he speaks.

“Now I need you both to understand how big of an undertaking this is. A soul this young is very fragile; it will take three, maybe five months before the baby can be exposed to any extreme emotions.” Nare leans back, counting things off on his fingers. “That means no overexposure to anger, lust, war, things of that nature. As demons, King of a Circle no less, I know you must set an example for your subjects but I can not stress how important this time in this child’s development will be. It could damage the child’s psyche permanently should the soul become destabilized before it’s completely acclimated to a new demon nature. Are you sure you’re up to the task?”

The two men look to each other, nodding before Lucien reaches out and squeezes Stan’s hand, both of them turning to look to the Reaper. “Not a doubt in Hell,” Lucien says firmly, the Reaper’s face scrunching up in what must be a smile as he stands up, putting the two piles of papers in folders before putting them in a small briefcase, slinging it over his shoulder and sliding on the black robe that hangs from a coat rack near his desk. 

“Please follow me then. Bring the bag.” He says as he gently picks up the phone, pushing a button and smiling into it. “Hello, Mary. Got a Special Case on our hands here, we’ll need the Chamber ready.” Though he knows it will be, he called ahead of time to make sure the ritual chamber was prepared as procedure demanded he do. The call was simply customary to ensure everything was set and by the way he quickly hung up the phone all was going according to plan.

He leads the two out of his office with the small box in tow, entering the elevator and going up to the rarely used top floor. Even the big wigs had their offices two floors below this one, the importance of this rarely used room demanding plenty of space. There were five specially trained Reapers stationed for the task, Nare handing one of the files to his comrade who greeted him at the door.

“Big day today.” Mary hummed out, flipping through the notes and nodding, leading them through the hospital like area. It had everything one might find in normal hospitals; all the equipment and tools needed for checking the health of the child were there. The only difference was the delivery room featured a large slab of stone in the center, clean and sterilized for the act to come.

“Names,” Mary called out, clicking her pen as she began to write on her notepad as both Stan and Lucien gave their full names, official titles, birthdates, every piece of information she requested. Once that was done she looked at the digital clock on the wall. “All right then. Today’s date is March 28th, time is...6:36. Stan, please stand on one side of the table, Lucien the other.” The two royals eagerly followed her commands, Mary walking over and checking the table one last time.

It looked flat for a distance but there was a dip in the center, small enough where liquid could gather. That was the point. “Hands to the center, please. We’ll need to draw blood.” The two already knew this so there was no hesitation, no flinching as the silver dagger slides along their wrists, blood beginning to pool where the dip in the table was formed. “Perfect. Reaper Nare.”

Stan and Lucien’s eyes turn as the Reaper walks over, placing the box on the table and opening it. They gasp as the tiny round soul is pulled out from within, pulsing with a life eager to form which the Reaper now holds gently in both hands. “Place your hands palms down in the bowl, fingertips only in your blood. Focus only on this little one.” 

And they do. Neither demon can take their eyes on the soul that would become their child as Nare sets it gently down in the small pool of blood. The rites Mary is saying echo distantly in their ears as they stare at the life before them. Their child, be it son or daughter, who they would raise and love with every inch of their being. How it got here didn’t matter, all that mattered was that it was here now. As time passed the light swelled, growing and shifting as the orb absorbed the blood that had pooled at the center. 

The soul’s form shifted, growing and filling up the space of the bowl. First little arms, then feet, going from white to a red, a shade lighter than Lucien’s own skin. A dark mop of red hair dusted over the baby's head, lips forming as the tiny child squirmed where it now laid out on the table. Eyes squinted open, revealing two yellow orbs and pupils that stared up at its parents, kicking out its limbs experimentally. Then the child wails out as loudly as it was born, Lucien letting out a choked sob of relief as life fills the little form in front of them.

Mary is quick to do her part. Gathering the child in a blanket she lifts it up briefly, smiling brightly. “It’s a boy!” She calls out as she walks over to the scale to have it weighed, measured, everything that needed to be done so that the baby could be returned to his parents as quickly as possible. 

“A boy.” Stan breathes out, shaking as tears slide from his face, sniffling as his eyes turn to Lucien, who is also crying. “You hear that?! We’re dads! We have a son!” He laughs out loud, walking over and hugging his husband now that they weren’t needed at the table. Lucien lets out a wet sob of his own, glad for the strong embrace of the warrior as he does not trust in his own ability to stand at the moment. 

“Lucien, Stan,” Mary calls out, smiling as she holds the wiggling blue bundle carefully. They pull apart so the warlock can gently gather the baby into his arms, the child still whimpering softly as he shifts in the blanket. “Look at you. Oh, look at you!” He laughs out, cradling the baby as Lucien huddles around him, gently reaching out to run a finger along his face. He laughs softly as he feels two soft lumps on their son’s forehead, smiling up at Stan. “He’s going to have your horns.” He breathes out, the warrior grinning as he presses his forehead to his husband’s. 

“He already has your eyes. And your skin tone.” Stan chuckles out, the baby wiggling his arms out and grasping the finger that had touched him, bringing it to his mouth and numbing on it. 

“He’s going to have your bite,” Lucien predicts, not hearing the wheelchair that’s wheeled behind him, the parents in their own little world before Mary clears her throat.

“For the little prince.” She states, handing the milk bottle over which Lucien eagerly takes. He sits down with practiced ease, having practiced with a dummy many times before but the real thing is so different. He brings the bottle to the baby’s mouth and his whimpers are finally silenced as he latches on and begins to guzzle down the milk eagerly, reaching out and doing his best to grasp the bottle as if to keep it close.

“I’m assuming you two already have a name in mind?” Nare asks, grinning down at the new demon that had been brought into the world.

Lucien looks to the warrior and nods his head, the King grinning proudly as he turns his attention to Nare, albeit briefly. “Damien. Damien LaVey.” He states in an assured manner, looking back down at his husband and son, the most beautiful sight he had seen in his life. He reaches out and gently runs his fingers over the shaggy mop of maroon hair, smiling brightly. “Welcome to the world little guy. Oh, we are going to start so many fires.” The new dad promises happily, Nare clearing his throat to remind him of their previous conversation.

“Later. Much later…..we’ll make up for lost time. Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Some clarification, before Damien becomes Damien his soul is referred to as 'it' because the soul can become whatever it wants, boy, girl, etcetera. Damien's soul hadn't taken a form yet because he was sacrificed shortly after he was born, in fact, was conceived with the sole purpose of being sacrificed. It's a messed up idea I know but there's some messed up shit out there in the world so that's the reason I've come up with.
> 
> Anyway if you have any suggestions, comments, requests, feel free to leave something in the comment section cause Lord knows I don't have anything else to do while we're all trying to survive Quarantine. I hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!


End file.
